Seasons Of Love
by DanyOdair
Summary: Rain, scarfs in summer, snow wars and quidditch. Four different stories in four different seasons. Kind of drabble. R/Hr.


I was writing a chapter for one of my other stories and suddenly realized I was writing this instead. So here it is. Rowling owns it all, including my soul and the horcruxes I made with it.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Autumn <strong>_

He likes rain. Well, not rain itself. He likes to observe _her_ when it's raining. She frowns as she tries to see through the wet locks that insist to stay on her face, her brown mane darker and wilder than usual. He sighs and for a moment forgets how to _breathe _when he sees her red cheeks and nose as she chases Fred, who had just taken the book she was reading from her hands and now ran around the quidditch pitch laughing. Perhaps he likes the rain because she can't _control_ it, like her hair. He had caught her one time or two lifting her eyes from a book to watch the rain through the window. Sometimes he actually _believes_ that Hermione likes rain better than books. Once, he saw her looking away from a book she seemed to be lost in to look at him for a brief second. So maybe, just _maybe_, she likes him just like she likes the rain.

_**Summer**_

She appeared at the kitchen, beautiful as ever and he immediately felt the urge to kiss and hug her though they were in the middle of the kitchen with his sister, mother and Harry and was a very hot day. She was wearing a pair of black shorts, a purple tank top and an orange scarf around her neck. He looked at her puzzled and she stared at him, narrowing her eyes.

-Hermione, is the hottest day of the year! Why on earth are you wearing that scarf? - Ginny asked on an innocent tone, suppressing a smile. Harry looked at her friend and choked on his iced tea.

-My throat is sore- she stated, glancing at her friends briefly before taking her eyes back to Ron with a this-is-all-your-fault look. He simply chuckled as he finally remembered the reason of such a winter-like outfit.

-Oh sweetheart I'll make some tea for you- Mrs. Weasley walked towards her with a grave look and put her hand over the girl's forehead- I will go to get one of Ron's jumpers. Even if it's hot as hell, you need to keep your body warm. I don't want you to get a cold.

-Mrs. Weasley is no necessary, really.

-Of course is necessary, dear- She affirmed and with a last look full of love and concern.

As soon as the ginger woman walked out of the kitchen Harry and Ginny burst into laughter. Hermione took the scarf off her now sweaty neck and fanned herself. She had a big, red, notorious mark just below the hole behind her ear, Ron's favorite spot.

-Ronald Weasley, as long as I live I won't ever let you get near my neck again! – he pouted and she felt her heart melt. A slight smile appeared across her face - At least not during summertime.

_**W**__**inter**_

-Come on 'Mione! Seamus, Dean and Neville are beating the crap out of us!

She looked from her book to the scene in front of her. Harry was hid behind a wall and gathering snow. Neville and Dean were sitting on a bench laughing while Seamus threw big balls of snow at the wall were Harry was hiding and screamed things like "Get out and face us, boy who lived!" . She just rolled her eyes and went back to her book.

-I can barely move, Ron. I'll hardly be of any help in your little game with frozen water- She raised her eyes once and again to meet his- Besides, you should be on your bed taking care of yourself. You were poisoned just a few days ago!

He smiled; glad she was worried about him. Now that she was talking to him again, getting poisoned was the best thing that could have ever happened to him.

-I'm fine. Better than ever- He looked into her eyes for a moment before looking away, his face blushing furiously- Please 'Mione, it's not even cold! Once you start running you won't even notice the snow.

She went back to her book once again and cleared her throat.

-Why don't you go and look for Lavender? She would be thrilled if you asked her to join you in this very manly and mature game.

-I told her I would be on my room the whole day- he answered as fast as he could- Besides I don't need her, you're complaining just like her 'Oh Won-Won I'm so cold!'

He mimicked her voice and jumped up and down in a very Lavender way.

-I'm an only child, Ronald. My parents wrapped me around with every kind of existing piece of cloth to warm me up when I was a child. That's why I'm freezing out now!

He smiled at the thought of a little Hermione over wrapped-up.

-Well, I'm a child out of seven and I don't even know how it feels to be cold but I know something- He sat next to her, his arm accidentally brushing hers in the process.

-What? - She asked, though she had actually lost the trail of thought in the exact moment his arm touched hers.

-That you're a witch, and not just that. You're the brightest witch of the entire magical and non magical world. You should probably know three or four warming spells.

She blinked in awe at him as she asked herself why she hadn't thought of it and how he could make her feel so warm just by looking at her. Snapping herself out of her thoughts, she looked for her wand under her robes.

-You are right. Of course I know one- She whispered something Ron couldn't quite understand and immediately her expression changed- That's it. Much better.

-So? Will you help us? – He asked and his faced lit up with excitement. She rolled her eyes and stood up slowly.

-Alright I'll play. But if a snow ball gets to touch me…

-I'll kill the bloke that threw it. I swear.

She smiled at him and he almost choked with his own saliva. After all this time without her smiles, they had a higher effect on him, if that was possible.

-Harry! - He heard her scream and watched as she walked towards his friend. Ron realized of how stupid he looked standing there alone and sprang next to her- Make balls with the snow you gathered…

-This is bloody brilliant!- he cried, laughing hysterically as they ran from Seamus and Neville- This is the best game ever!

She smiled at him and simply shook her head as she threw a snow ball that fell directly onto Neville's face.

-I do love you Ron, but seriously sometimes I…

She went silent. He opened his eyes wide and looked at her. She was red, but he couldn't tell if it was because of the weather or the words she had just said, words that ironically were the warmest he had ever heard.

_**Spring**_

She hates quidditch. More than quidditch, she hates brooms and heights. But there she is, cheering and clapping as her friends pass, throw and look for different balls all around the field. And she likes it. She likes him. His eyes shinning as he flies across the pitch, his cheeks flushing due to the excitement and the tiredness. Maybe the spring fever Parvati and Lavender talked about wasn't just a girly excuse to droll over a boy. Perhaps she had actually caught it. That was the only logic explanation she could find to the hopeless state she was in. Hermione Granger, the girl that had always prided herself of being practical and sensible was now praying for one look of the ginger boy on the broom. And then, in a blissful moment he looks at her and smiles. She feels herself about to faint and breathes heavily, trying to find the guts to smile back at him. But in the exact moment she's about to do it so one of the balls comes to him and hits his head, almost dropping him off his broom. He pulls himself together again and screams at one of his brothers. Then he turns around and looks at her, smiling nervously. She smiles. Maybe, she hopes, he's caught the fever too.

* * *

><p>Here I am again, writting one-shots when I should be finishing my stories. hope you liked it though.<p> 


End file.
